


A Favor Owed

by RubyQuinn



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Sex, Pre-Relationship, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyQuinn/pseuds/RubyQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the RotG kinkmeme.  After spending so many years alone, Jack craves physical affection, but is too ashamed to ask his friends.  But when Pitch owes him a debt of gratitude, the two make an agreement to satisfy his needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor Owed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to fill the following prompt by anon on the RotG kinkmeme:
> 
> "300 years without being touched is a long time, and Jack loves the little scraps of physical affection he's been getting off-handedly. He wants more, but he's mortified by the thought of asking. When one of the Guardians or Pitch end up owing him a favor, Jack knows EXACTLY what he wants. He is super reluctant to admit to it, but finally he spills the beans, and touching ensues. Hugs, cuddles, hair-pettings, etc.
> 
> Sexytimes can happen after if anon wants, but I'd really like time spent on the simple physical contact even if they do, and a slow build.
> 
> +50 if the Guardian or Pitch is really touched by Jack's request/reaction.  
> +100 if Jack is too embarrassed to look at the other person's face at first, because he's sure he's being judged."
> 
> A big thank you to all the lovely people who commented as I posted this on the kinkmeme- your support kept me going and I had a lot of fun! <3 
> 
> Another note: this was originally posted in 12 parts as I wrote them, but overall it's more of a oneshot so I'm posting it as such here.
> 
> *EDIT* One more thing! frosty-butt from tumblr made some lovely fanart for this fic! Go check it out! http://frosty-butt.tumblr.com/post/38825234906/a-fanart-for-the-most-brilliant-fanfiction-i-read

It was a late November evening when Jack received an invitation from North, asking him to visit his workshop that night. The yeti who had delivered it (along with half a dozen elves, most of whom had managed to get their tongues stuck to a lamppost) handed him an unused snowglobe and gave a thumbs up. Jack smiled, and opened the portal to the North Pole.

\----

"Ah, Jack, you are here!" North grinned when he spotted him, knocking aside several elves as he crossed the workshop floor to greet his guest. "Good, good! I am glad to be seeing you."

"No problem," the young Guardian smiled, and he nodded cheerily to one of the yetis. It still amazed him that after so many years of trying to trick his way inside, he was now free to visit the Workshop. "What is it you wanted to see me about, anyway?"

North made a motion to follow as he continued to walk, and Jack fell into step beside him while he explained. "I called everybody here. I want to talk to you about this Christmas! I know it's my holiday, but we should all be coordinated so it goes off without a hitch. We do this every year; just a little check up to make sure we're all on task. But this year will be even better! With your snow and my, well…" He let the sentence trail off with a wink. "If the two of us work together, it will be so magical for all the little boys and girls, eh?" The large man gave a barking laugh, clapping Jack on the back. 

Jack stumbled, and felt his breath stutter at the weight of the man's hand, warm and heavy on his back. It was withdrawn as quickly as it had come, however, and now North was looking at him with a raised eyebrow as Jack leaned on his staff to right himself.

"What is wrong, my friend?"

"Huh? Oh, ah, nothing," Jack shrugged with an easy smile. "I think I, uh, tripped on an elf, that's all."

"Ah," North nodded sagely, and continued his walk. "The little pests are everywhere. O-ho! Toothiana, you made it!"

"Of course!" The fairy beamed. "So nice to see you, North! And Jack!" Quick as lightning, she'd flown over and given each of them a kiss on the cheek, before she was gone again just as quickly, busily chattering to the few fairies she'd brought. Luckily, they helped distract her from noticing the spectacular blush now playing on Jack's cheeks, or rather the thick frost that was his way of blushing. 

"Sandy!" North's joyful exclamation brought Jack back to reality, in time to be put out of it again when Sandy flew past him, riding a golden cloud of dust, and affectionately ruffling his hair as he went by. 

And there it was again; he felt his heart leap to his throat and he shivered at the contact his friend had so easily given him. He couldn't bring himself to admit how much he savored it, every spare touch they gave him without a thought. After three hundred years alone, it was shocking to suddenly start receiving the kinds of physical affection he'd spent that time longing for. 

And yet, it was never quite enough. He wanted more, wanted to be hugged and caressed and wrap himself in another person until he was comfortably sated. But of course, he could never tell them that. He would feel greedy, and their friendship meant too much to him to risk what he already had over a selfish lust for more kind touches. 

Jack sighed, trying to banish such thoughts and focus on the meeting. Currently, Toothiana was lecturing North about the need for sugar-free candycanes, while Sandy seemed to be animatedly discussing sugar plums with a group of yetis. The only one missing was-

"Bunny!" 

"G'day, mates!" Bunnymund waved to the group, stopping next to Jack. He smiled at the youngest Guardian, squeezing his shoulder in a friendly greeting. "How ya been, Jack?"

It was all the frost sprite could do to stay upright and give a tight-lipped smile in response. 

"You have run late!" North noticed, looking concerned. "What kept you, my friend?" 

"Trouble, that's what," the Pooka replied, his expression serious. "I heard some reports of those shadow-things, the Nightmares that Pitch had, runnin' around the Eastern U.S.."

"The Nightmares are back?" Toothiana gasped. Next to her, the Sandman looked troubled.

North scowled. "What is Pitch up to this time, eh?"

"I'm not sure it is Pitch. Those things went rogue, remember? Turned on him. We didn't think they'd be a problem after that, but turns out a few of 'em are still at large. I took out one, but two more got away from me."

Jack frowned. After the eventful episode of Easter earlier that year, Pitch had gone back to hiding in the shadows and giving the occasional child a fright, but he hadn't made any more moves to gain power. The Guardians had assumed he'd regained control of his Nightmare army, or that it had simply dissolved. "East States, you said?"

"Yeah, not far from where we last saw Pitch. Near your home town, Burgess."

"Then I'll take care of it."

"Alone?" Toothiana hovered nervously above her seat. "Shouldn't we all go?"

"It's my home town, I should do it. You guys have important business to take care of here. Besides, I can handle myself against those things pretty well. It won't take long, and hey," Jack smirked, looking at North, "I'll be back tomorrow so we can make our Christmas arrangements, alright?"

"Sounds good, my friend."

"But North-" Tooth began to protest, but the larger spirit put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
"This is nothing he can't handle. And if he gets into trouble, he won't hesitate to let us know, right Frost?"

"Of course," Jack smiled at his friends, waving a hand in farewell before tossing a snowglobe, the portal opening wide before him. "Nice to see you guys. I'll let you know how it goes."

\---

On the other end of the portal, it only took a few minutes to track down the wild Nightmares. He found the two glittering steeds chasing a frightened pre-teen down an alley. Luckily, the child was a Believer, and within a few minutes, Jack had him laughing, as the two of them pelted the would-be-scary horses with snowballs he'd conjured up. 

Quickly losing interest in their no longer frightened target, the Nightmares turned and ran, headed towards the woods. Jack smiled as the child laughed victoriously. He smirked, and gave the kid a thumbs up. "Good job, buddy. Get home safe, okay? Oh, and don't forget to write to Santa! Christmas is going to be great this year, and I'll put in a good word for you!" 

He winked, before jumping high and letting the wind carry him after the horses. It was only after a short trip into the woods when he spotted their new target, and his eyes widened in surprise as he recognized him. Pitch Black stood in the clearing, his back to a tall rock face, the Nightmares approaching on either side. He tried to sneer and look intimidating, but he shook as his own creatures started moving in. 

Before they could attack, Jack struck; he froze one, then the other, and landed crouched between them. He rose, looking at each of the two sparkly black smears now marring the thin snow, before turning to the Boogeyman, who was staring in surprise. 

"F-Frost?", he spluttered. "What-"

Jack smirked. "Happy to see me?," he teased.

Pitch tried to compose himself, still shaken from the Nightmare attack. "You got them."

"Yeah, I'm just wondering why I had to," Jack replied, eyeing the other spirit with concern. "We thought you'd gotten back control of those things, but those ones were attacking you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Pitch bristled. He straightened his clothes, and explained. "After those things turned on me, I did manage to get them back under control, but there were still a few who weren't present at the time. They've been lurking, waiting for some time now, and I've been trying to track them down. And those two," he said, gesturing at the two smears, "were the last ones still running wild. I assume you dissipated the fear of another target, so they rerouted their attack on the next one; me."

Jack frowned. "We didn't know any were still rogue. You could've asked us for help."

"Apparently I didn't have to. You came to my rescue anyway," Pitch replied. His expression was polite, but his tone was clipped, and Jack felt a little uncomfortable. "I suppose this means I owe you one, Frost."

"I'm glad I could help, I guess," Jack shrugged. It was a bit awkward, saving someone who was supposed to be your enemy. "I should probably go let the others know things have been taken care of. See you another time, I guess." With a shrug, he turned to leave.

"Wait! We have a score to settle."

"What?" Jack turned to see Pitch a few steps away and began backing up warily, his grip tightening on his staff. 

"I refuse to stay in your debt forever, Frost," Pitch said sharply, approaching the Guardian. 

The frost sprite looked confused, and lowered his staff. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I want my debt to you squared."

"Debt? Oh!" Jacks eyes widened. "But that was just… It was nothing. Don't worry about it."

Pitch frowned and moved closer to Jack, his naturally menacing nature showing in his stance. "'Don't worry about it'? That's _cute_ , Jackie, but the fact of the matter is that I now owe you one, and I'm not going to wait until something important is at stake to make it up to you. I want us settled now." 

"Oh, I get it," Jack laughed, mischief replacing the guarded look that had been in his eyes a moment before. No longer worried about a potential attack, he brushed past the other and slowly walked around the snow-covered glen, speaking cheerfully. "You don't want to be on the brink of world domination again and have me call in my favor, huh? 'Hey, Pitch, remember that one time I saved your ass? Mind _not_ conquering humanity today, hm?'" He frowned as the thought occurred to him, and swiveled to point his staff at the other. "You're not… planning anything like that again, are you?"

"Of course not," Pitch replied, bitterness hanging on each word. "You Guardians thoroughly taught me my lesson, and my place. But who can tell what the future may hold? When the past could come back to bite me? Therefore I want to settle this in the present. Capiche?" 

Jack looked Pitch up and down for a moment, and deciding he was telling the truth, lowered his staff with a nod. "Alright then."

"Good," Pitch said flatly. "Now, what do you want?"

Jack thought for a moment, then gave a non-committal shrug. 

"There must be something you want," Pitch insisted. "Something you desire. Don't tell me that being a Guardian has already given you everything you've ever wanted."

"I-I don't know." It wasn't quite the truth. One thing had occurred to Jack, certainly; the desire he'd felt earlier, to be touched. But since it had seemed inappropriate to ask such things of his friends, it seemed far less appropriate to ask it of his enemy, even if he had just saved said enemy from an unpleasant encounter. 

"You don't know?," Pitch repeated disbelievingly, quirking an eyebrow. "Come on, there's got to be something." Jack was avoiding his gaze, and Pitch blinked in surprise when he sensed it; the boy was afraid. Not terrified, exactly, but nervous, and scared. But of what? He wasn't doing anything to try and frighten him, and what did the other spirit have to fear? After all, he'd just defeated two menacing Nightmares without even flinching. Pitch felt concerned despite himself, and leaned closer to try and get a clearer read on the fear in Jack's eyes. "Are you… Are you alright?"

"What?" Jack jumped, a little thrown at the other's question. He'd been in his own thoughts, eyeing Pitch's smoky colored fingers and wondering what those might feel like pressed against his skin. He turned his gaze to the forest floor, feeling self-conscious. "I-I'm fine."

"Hey," Pitch spoke softly, and reached out to tilt Jack's chin towards him with a couple of fingers. The younger spirit's reaction was instantaneous; he gasped, eyes wide as his cheeks froze over with shock and embarrassment. Pitch withdrew his hand quickly, afraid the Guardian might be upset by the unwelcomed touch. When Jack didn't speak, he decided to voice as much. "I didn't mean to offend-"

"No, you didn't," Jack said hastily. "I mean, you didn't offend me, I just… I'm not used to… people doing that. Touching me like that. It's not… something people usually do."

"People do, actually," Pitch noted. "Most people."

"It's just me, then," Jack shrugged, embarrassed. "Look, I should go…"

"Hang on," Pitch protested. "I still owe you." 

"I…" Jack hesitated, then shook his head. He turned and began to walk away. "I don't want anything. Just forget it."

Pitch considered letting it go. Jack would let him off the hook and they could both move on with their lives. But something about the other's behavior had him curious. "I'm good at keeping secrets, you know," Pitch called after him, making the younger spirit stop and turn.

"W-what?" Jack replied nervously.

"You want something, but whatever it is, you're not proud of it. I'm willing to help you out, and no one else need ever know. Why not tell me what it is?"

Jack licked his lips nervously, and glanced around as if making sure they were alone. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

Pitch rolled his eyes, his patience beginning to drain. "If that's what you want, then yes. Now tell me."

After a moment's pause, Jack walked toward Pitch, stopping a few feet away. Stalling, he carefully placed his staff on the ground where it wouldn't be trod on before standing straight in front of Pitch.  
After another moment of getting his nerves, he said it, speaking in clipped bursts. "I want you to… to touch me." He didn't meet Pitch's gaze, and in fact tried not to look at the other spirit at all. "L-like you did a second ago, but… more." 

"Touch you?"

Embarrassment colored his cheeks in the form of white frost as he awaited what would surely be a barking laugh of rejection from the other spirit. He jolted in surprise, then, when he felt a warm hand cup his cheek. 

"Like this?," Pitch asked, golden eyes watching closely for Jack's reaction. 

The younger spirit's eyes were wide for a moment, and he nodded stiffly, careful not to pull away from that soft, glorious touch. "Y-yeah, just like that." He shivered as Pitch's other hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and his eyes fell closed in pleasure.

Pitch watched him silently, becoming more and more fascinated by the boy's reaction. He rubbed his thumb across the frost on Jack's cheek, watching it melt at the heat of his touch only to refreeze an instant later. Jack sighed pleasantly in response, his own cold hand coming up to rest on top of Pitch's.

After how nervous Jack had been to tell him what he wanted, Pitch hadn't expected him to ask for something as simple as this. Still, he thought he understood where the boy's request came from; three hundred years was a long time to go without contact, and if his assumptions were correct, the boy hadn't spent much time with anyone who could see, hear, or touch him in that long. Pitch himself could relate; he could barely remember the last time he'd shared any kind of physical affection with any person. It seemed therapeutic to be doing it now, the boy's cool temperature highlighting every place their bodies touched. 

A smirk tugged at Pitch's lips at the way Jack leaned appreciatively into his touch, and he gave a small chuckle. "How long has it been since you've been touched like this?," he wondered out loud. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Jack's serene expression dissolved, and he froze, looking at Pitch like a deer in headlights. "I-I… forget it," he stuttered, pulling away. "Nevermind."

"Hey, hang on!" Pitch caught him by the sleeve as he tried to get away.

"No, it was a stupid idea anyway." Jack could feel tears of embarrassment prickling at his eyes, and fought to keep them at bay, careful to hide his face from the other.

"No, it's not," Pitch insisted. He was tempted to laugh at the way Jack was pouting, but kept it from showing in his voice. "It's not stupid."

"Let go of me," the Guardian hissed, trying in vain to wrest himself from Pitch's grip.

"We both know that's not what you want," Pitch soothed. He released the boy's sleeve, and instead wrapped his arms around him from behind. He nestled his cheek against cool white hair that smelled of winter pine and fresh fallen snow, and sighed. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I understand."

"Y-you do?," Jack sniffed, too distracted by the brilliantly warm embrace to even think of trying to get out of it.

"It's been a while for me, too," he shared quietly. 

"Oh," Jack replied dumbly, unsure how to respond to such a confession, and still processing the fact that Pitch was holding him so close. 

Hesitantly, Jack ran a hand up Pitch's left arm, marveling at the warm skin that met his own. Slowly, and careful not to break contact, he turned and laced his arms around Pitch's midriff, turning their embrace into a hug. Chest to chest, he was struck by how very warm the other was; the difference in temperature helped point out where their bodies touched, and it felt incredible. He nuzzled his face against Pitch's collar, breathing in his not-unpleasant scent of ash and metal. He breathed small sighs of pleasure as Pitch ran hands over his back, and up into his hair. Jack gave him a gentle squeeze in return, quickly losing himself in the satisfying bliss of being held.

"I didn't mean to upset you before," Pitch said quietly, as one of his hands traced the curve of Jack's back. "You _should_ enjoy this. There's nothing wrong with it."

Jack frowned disbelievingly, cheeks frosty, and pressed his face into Pitch's shoulder so he wouldn't see.

Pitch silently cursed the Guardians as he hugged Jack around the shoulders. Jack's fear of rejection was still so strong; why hadn't they made more of an effort to dispel that? Why hadn't they noticed how desperate Jack apparently was, so much so that he had to go to his enemy for a friendly touch? Weren't they supposed to be his friends? After 300 years of ignoring him until he became useful, it seemed like they were still ignoring the boy's needs.

At the same time, he cursed himself. He'd known of Frost's existence for a long time, but had never bothered to seek him out or even meet him until that fateful Easter, when Frost had allied himself with the Guardians for good. If only he'd gone to him sooner, they might've forged a powerful alliance. They might've won the battle against the Guardians. They might not have spent the last 300 years without companionship. They might neither have been so starved for attention now that they clung to each other as enemies in the middle of an empty forest. 

Jack moaned softly in appreciation as Pitch kneaded the flesh below his shoulders. The Nightmare King sighed. Could've, would've, should've. Now that this was happening, he could at least try and mend some of the damage done by so many years of neglect, and he silently swore to do just that. The younger spirit should be shown that these sorts of needs were nothing to be ashamed of. 

Because despite what had happened between him and the Guardians, Pitch couldn't bring himself to hate the boy for it. They were the same, in a way, having been alone and rejected for so long. The only difference was that Jack was younger, more innocent and optimistic, more easily redeemed. No; that wasn't the only difference, he corrected himself. Jack was kind, and sweet, and cheerful. Once you knew him, it was hard not to love him. Even though they were supposed to be enemies, Pitch felt an urge to protect him, and make him happy; Jack deserved nothing less.

It was with that urge in mind that he moved a hand to Jack's cheek, tilting the boy's head so he could easily whisper in his ear. "Jack," he said gently, the boy jumping slightly from the dream-like calm he'd been in. He continued, stroking Jack's cheek to keep him calm. "I'm not complaining, but might you want to move this somewhere more comfortable? You can only relax so much while standing. That is, if you wish to continue." 

Jack looking him in the face for the first time since he'd started touching him, blue eyes blinking rapidly, as if it might help him remember how to use his tongue. "O-oh. Um. Okay."

Pitch gave a polite smile in reply. With a wave of his hand, he summoned tendrils of shadow, which he used to retrieve Jack's staff from where he'd left it on the ground. He handed it to the Guardian, hugging him close to his chest, then waved his hand again, this time enveloping them completely in darkness. 

\---

When the shadows dissipated, it revealed a new location. Pitch snapped his fingers, and golden flames came to light in several tall wrought iron lamps around the room. 

Jack squinted as his eyes adjusted to the new lighting. The walls and floor were of a dark grey stone, and the entrance to the room seemed to be from a door at the top of a set of narrow stone stairs. Before them was a large mattress covered in dark furs, resting atop a carved stone platform. 

Jack squirmed, and said nervously, "Is this… is this your bedroom?"

"It is a room in my lair which happens to have a mattress." Pitch hesitated, seeing the boy was uncomfortable. He wanted to help Jack relax, and hadn't meant to intimidate him with his choice of location. "This is merely the most comfortable place that came to my mind. If you'd prefer somewhere else, I'd be happy to take us."

"No, it's… it's fine," Jack said distractedly. Pitch eyed him doubtfully, but Jack managed a small smile. "Really, it's okay, I was just… wondering where we were, is all." 

Pitch could sense that Jack was unnerved, but decided not to argue and focus on making him comfortable instead. He gently took Jack's staff from his hands and set it against the wall, then lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Jack's face. He felt a thrill when this caused the younger spirit's cheeks to frost over almost immediately. Slowly, he willed him to relax through his touch, and watched carefully as Jack's eyes shuttered closed as he stroked down his jaw line. The boy moaned softly as the warm hands moved at a snail's pace down his neck, across his shoulders, and down his arms, finally lifting his hands in a delicate grip. 

Jack opened his eyes, a little stunned by the intimacy of Pitch's actions. Even if he was gradually growing used to being touched, no one had touched him quite like that before. It was so slow and thorough, something which one would only do in private with someone they trusted. Silent and entranced, he let Pitch lead him to the bed.

Jack followed, feeling distant. How had he wound up like this, being pulled into bed by Pitch Black? And why on earth was Pitch being so kind to him? Well, he already knew the answer to that; Pitch was merely repaying his debt. Jack was sure he wouldn't have agreed to this otherwise, even if he really did understand where the request was coming from, but considering how gentle Pitch was being, it was almost enough to convince him that the Nightmare King was doing this of his own volition. Almost. He supposed it didn’t matter; he was getting what he wanted, and at least Pitch wasn't complaining.

When Pitch settled in against the pillows at the top of the bed, Jack settled next to him. They both stretched out so they were laying side by side, and Pitch turned towards him, pulling him close.

Pitch eyed Jack carefully as he ran a hand soothingly down his side, feeling the faint shape of his rib cage even through his thick hoodie. The boy's cheeks were frost, and he was still looking nervous. "Comfortable?"

"Yeah," Jack mumbled. As Pitch's hands moved over his arms, Jack figured he may as well be adventurous himself; after all, he had earned this by stopping those Nightmares. Shyly, he placed a hand on Pitch's shoulder and began mimicking the other's movements; down to the elbow, back up to the shoulder, across the pectoral, and up to the collarbone. With a thrill, he discretely allowed his thumb to flick across the small patch of warm grey skin exposed there by Pitch's open cloak, before retracting his hand. 

Pitch smirked, his own exploring hand coming to rest above Jack's hip. It was cute, the way Jack seemed to think he was being so subtle. "It really _has_ been a while." Jack shifted slightly, giving him an offended frown, and he hastened to clarify himself. "I meant for me. Surprising, I'm sure, but not many people want to ah, _cuddle_ , with the physical embodiment of fear itself, even out of the few who do believe in me."

"Oh."

"I missed it," Pitch continued, golden eyes on Jack's frozen cheeks as he caressed his side. With a playful smirk, he said, "Of course, I remember it being a traditionally warmer activity."

The younger spirit pouted. "Sorry," he said.

"Not at all," Pitch laughed. "It's refreshing."

Jack let out a breath, relaxing as Pitch's arms pulled him closer. "You really do understand, don't you?"

"More than you know," was the soft reply. 

Jack mumbled something that sounded like, "Yeah," stroking the thin, dark fabric that covered Pitch's shoulder. He couldn't help thinking that he may have been wrong about Pitch only doing this to repay his debt, but he couldn't quite tell whether such a thought should make him more or less at ease. 

"Is something wrong?" Pitch asked, sensing the other's distance.

Jack blinked, shaking his head, as Pitch rubbed his thumb in small circles against the cool skin of his wrist. God, that was distracting. "No, nothing."

Pitch wasn't to be fooled; he could sense the other's nerves. "What are you so afraid of?" Jack didn't reply, and the older spirit frowned, cursing under his breath. "It's this place, isn't it? I shouldn't have brought you here. I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's not like that," Jack cut in. It was the truth; the place wasn't making him uncomfortable, but that was what he found troubling. It shouldn't feel so right to lay next to one's enemy this way.

"Then what is it like?," Pitch asked, pulling back slightly to better see the boy's expression. 

Jack met Pitch's eyes, but his own were guarded, lips pressed tightly together to avoid betraying his thoughts. "I… I don't want to talk about it."

After a moment, Pitch shrugged and settled back down, trying to act like Jack being bothered didn't bother him at all. "Have it your way."

Jack's breath was cold against Pitch's neck, and he snuggled closer. Pitch took the cue and shifted their positions, wrapping his arm under Jack's neck and hugging him close. He rubbed a hand soothingly up and down his back, and they both relaxed into the soft cushions. 

Jack gave a contented moan as Pitch's hands moved over his body. Even as he did, he thought bitterly of what he did to earn this treatment. He sighed, and mumbled, "You must think I'm pathetic."

He felt Pitch's hand stop in surprise at this comment, before the older spirit made a sound of amusement. "You, 'pathetic'? Need I remind you that earlier tonight you saved me from my _own_ underlings?"

"I'm _bribing_ my enemy into _hugging_ me." The situation sounded so ridiculous that Jack couldn't help a self-deprecating laugh. 

"You're not bribing me, I owed-"

"Yeah, same difference." Jack interrupted, reluctantly pulling away from the other's warm arms. "Quid pro quo, right? I help you, and you do whatever I ask."

Golden eyes narrowed, and Pitch frowned. "Believe it or not, you didn't have to _earn_ it." He sighed and looked at Jack seriously, rather disappointed that the boy thought of it that way. He had been enjoying himself, regardless of how they had gotten in this situation to begin with. "You only had to ask."

Jack looked unsure, but hopeful. "R-really?"

"Perhaps it wouldn't have occurred to you without our little exchange earlier this evening," Pitch said plainly, stroking his thumb across Jack's lower back, "But I would likely have agreed to this whether or not I had _owed_ you. Like I said, it's been a while for me too; this is not unwelcome."

Yet again, Jack found he wasn't sure how to respond. He went with a simple, "Oh," before relaxing once more.

Minutes passed, and as Jack gave contented sighs, a dangerous thought occurred to Pitch; he could get used to this. He could get used to the icy spirit clenching fists in the front of his robes, the pleasant smile on Jack's lips when he lifted his hand to pet his white hair. He could get used to the way Jack had intertwined their legs, without seeming to notice. He could get used to the feel of Jack's cool skin on his fingertips. 

He could get used to being touched again.

But it wouldn't happen. A coldness that had nothing to do with Jack's temperature tugged at his heart, and he remembered that Easter. Jack had made his choice, and he'd chosen them over him. He had fought with them, won with them, and had taken his vows. Once again, he wished he'd had the foresight to seek an alliance with Jack sooner, before his enemies got to him. But wishing now would do him no good, and there was little he could do besides be there for him in this temporary arrangement.

Jack, who had been nearly dozing, lifted his head from the pillows, blinking sleepy blue eyes and giving Pitch a small smile. He hesitated, before speaking softly. "I never thought you could be like this."  
Pitch quirked a brow. "Like what?"

"So gentle," Jack replied, "And… nice."

Pitch's eyebrows rose further, and he couldn't help an amused smirk. "'Nice'? I've been called many things but I'm not sure anyone has ever called me 'nice' before."

Jack laughed, a smile lighting up his face. "Well I guess they didn't know you very well, then. And… neither did I." 

Jack's smile faded slowly as he stared up at Pitch, but he didn't look unhappy. The amused expression in his eyes was replaced with something more like anticipation, and Pitch was suddenly struck by how close their faces had gotten. They were only inches apart, and their breath mingled between them, hot and cold forming wispy clouds that continually billowed and dissolved. He could see the individual ice crystals on Jack's frosty cheeks, and even on his chilled pink lips. He felt the urge to taste them, feel them melt on his tongue, and with a glance at Jack's eyes, bright and excited, realized couldn't resist.

The first kiss was quick, and the feel of Jack's soft, cold lips on his own jolted him into realizing what he'd just done. He pulled back and held his breath, eyes shut in resignation as he waited for the inevitable shouting and pulling away, and worst of all, the horrified expression he was sure to find plastered on the other's face. He cursed himself; how could he do something so foolish? But after a moment, he heard no shouts, felt no offended squirming, and he opened his eyes. 

Jack looked up with wide blue eyes, startled, but not upset. Pitch had _kissed_ him. He tried to steady his breathing along with his thoughts, before glancing at Pitch's warm, grey lips and leaning up to press them against his own once more. 

He was sure he couldn't be any good at this; he'd never kissed anyone before, at least not in this life. He had vague memories of a village girl with brown hair and pink lips from his life as a human, but that was so long ago, he was sure any skills he'd picked up with her would be so rusty by now as to be negligible.

Unknown to Jack, Pitch was just as rusty, though he tried not to show it. When merely pressing their mouths together started to seem a bit stiff, he tilted his head and pulled back slightly, meeting Jack's lips repeatedly in the middle with light little kisses. Jack gave a soft sound of approval, and Pitch took that as a good sign. 

For his part, Jack was losing himself in the warmth of the kiss. For so long, he'd watched human couples sharing kisses in the snow, and after all that watching, he thought he'd never get a chance to participate. Now, here he was, gripping the fabric of Pitch's cloak as he pulled him closer.

After a while, Pitch became even bolder, and flicked his tongue lightly against those cold lips. The younger spirit gasped softly, a mix of appreciation and surprise. Pitch noticed he tasted of clean snow, just as he would have imagined. Fresh, and pure, and innocent…

Innocent. The boy was so young, so naïve, and so lonely. With a pang, Pitch regretted acting so boldly; How dare he do something like this with one so vulnerable? He pulled away, this time not out of fear of rejection, but of guilt. 

Jack shivered slightly as he opened his eyes to see where Pitch had gone. He saw Pitch's troubled expression and grew nervous. "What- what's wrong?," he asked between heavy breaths; he made a mental note that he'd have to learn how to breathe and kiss at the same time. 

" I shouldn't have…" The dark spirit shook his head, privately growing angry with himself. Jack had seemed so inviting, but it was a threshold he shouldn't have crossed, not when the boy was so vulnerable; he deserved better. "That was wrong."

Jack's face fell, and he looked away. The only word that came to his tongue was a sad, " _Oh_." How stupid he'd been to misinterpret Pitch's kindness as something more. Of course it was too good to be true. He should've known. 

Pitch's eyes widened in realization as he saw the hurt on Jack's face. As if acting out of turn hadn't been bad enough, _of course_ the boy would take this as a rejection. Flustered, he put his fingers to Jack's chin, tilting the younger spirit's face towards him, and tried to repair the damage. "No, no, it's not like that," he said hurriedly, struggling to find the right words. "It's not as if I didn't… I did _want_ … _do_ want… but I shouldn't have… not _now._ " Jack was just looking more and more confused at his stumbling, fractured explanations, and Pitch sighed in frustration, trying to calm down for both their sakes. 

"Jack," he began once more, trying to slow down and speak clearly, despite the nervous guilt tugging at the pit of his stomach, "I shouldn't have done that just now. It wasn't appropriate, I took advantage."

Jack took a moment to consider that. His hands were still lingering where they had ended up on Pitch's shoulders, and he shifted them slightly. His cheeks were frosty as he thought about what they were doing here in the first place. "What I asked of you wasn't really appropriate either. Wasn't I taking advantage?"

"That was different."

"How? Because you _owed_ me?" 

Jack was giving him a determined look, and Pitch faltered. "I told you," he said slowly, gently touching Jack's shoulder, "this isn't unwelcome."

A sad, knowing look appeared on Jack's face. "But that _was_." 

"No," Pitch asserted, feeling frustrated. How could he make the boy understand? "It's just… not the right time."

"Oh," Jack said, perking up; that was a more promising answer. He raised an eyebrow and suppressed a mischievous smile, "So one of the _other_ times when we're alone together and not trying to hurt each other would be more appropriate?"

A smile threatened to tug at his lips at the boy's nerve, but Pitch fought it, keeping his face blank. "Was that sarcasm?"

Jack smirked in response, and, guessing he'd won him over, leaned up hoping for another kiss. Disappointingly, Pitch didn't give him one, and pulled away slightly instead. Jack's frozen kiss landed on his jaw instead of his lips, and Pitch shook his head.

"Not now."

Jack eyed him sadly. "You think I didn't want it?"

Pitch sighed. Why must the boy be so hard to resist? "I think you don't know what you want."

Jack frowned defiantly. "Yes, I do." 300 years alone left a person with a lot of wanting, and a lot of not getting. By this time he was very good at knowing what he wanted, even when, or maybe _especially if_ , he couldn't have it. 

Pitch tried a different tactic, and mentioned one major reason why what Jack said he wanted was a very bad idea. "You _do_ remember we are technically enemies, don't you?"

Jack pouted, slumping against the pillows. "I think we make lousy enemies."

The words struck Pitch. Maybe they _did_ make lousy enemies. They certainly didn't seem to hate one another. He felt he had more in common with Jack than with any other spirit he'd met; the way they connected in a conversation was something special, and being near him felt so natural. It was something he'd felt from the first time he saw him, and it was why he was so eager for Jack to join him. And why it had stung so hard when Jack had refused. 

Of course, there were times when Pitch could be cruel- a particular conversation in freezing Antarctic conditions came to mind. But Pitch was finding more and more that the fight had gone out of him since his defeat, and despite their supposed enmity, he didn't want to harm Jack; His admiration for the long-time lonely spirit remained. And Jack, for his part, was still so quick to offer kindness to one like him; the way he had saved him from those Nightmares without a second thought was clear evidence of that. Maybe there was still a chance to forget old fights and become something other than enemies. 

After a moment, Pitch realized he'd been staring, and cleared his throat. As much as bargaining as he did with himself wouldn't change the way things were. There were still so many reasons it wouldn't work, so many ways they could both get hurt. "Yes, well… neither of us is likely to switch sides, are we?"

"And that means we can't be…"

"Can't be what?"

"Friends," Jack replied. His cheeks frosted, and he looked away. "Or… something."

Pitch felt a tight warmth in his chest at the implications; _If only_ it were that simple. But they were both getting way ahead of themselves. "That's not what I'm saying," he tried to explain, "It's simply that I shouldn't have done what I did. And it's not as if I didn't _want_ to do it. Just… not now, not under these conditions. If you had any sense, you'd regret it; I'm sure you will by tomorrow." _'And I'll be alone again,'_ he continued in his mind, _'and I'll be nothing to you but the one who took advantage.'_

"I'm not the one who's regretting it," Jack said sadly, and sighed, starting to shift away.

Pitch winced as Jack sat up on the bed, the loss of the cool body next him making him ache. They'd been getting along so well; Why did he have to go and spoil it? "You don't have to leave."

Jack looked back at him, pausing as if waiting for a reason to stay. 

"Tell you what," Pitch offered, slowly sitting up next to him and wrapping his arms around Jack from behind. He chose his words carefully, and after a moment began to speak. "We keep doing this," he squeezed him gently, speaking softly, "And I don't just mean today; whenever you feel like it, come to me. You're right, we _are_ lousy enemies, so let's not bother to act like it. You'll be safe here, and welcome." 

"… Really?" Pitch couldn't see Jack's face, but he sounded hopeful. 

"Yes." He smirked, "Just don't tell the other Guardian's I've gone soft." Jack laughed a little at that, and Pitch smiled. He hesitated, taking a moment to just hold the younger spirit, and appreciate the feel of his soft blue hoodie on his palms. "After today I'll be out of your debt," he continued, "And you'll have some time to think about what you really want and… whether you regret what happened. And we'll discuss it another time. How does that sound?" 

Jack was silent for a moment as he lifted his fingers, ghosting them over Pitch's warm hands. He leaned back into the other's hold, and quietly said, "Okay."

Jack watched those grey hands caress him, one thumb repeatedly stroking over his abdomen as they sat in comfortable silence. Pitch's cheek was pressed against the side of his head, so his warm breath kept blowing against Jack's ear; The younger spirit was grateful that Pitch couldn't see the frosty blush this was causing. 

After a while, Pitch shifted. He pulled Jack down so they were laying on the pillows once more, this time with Jack facing away. Even without seeing the boy's face, he could tell Jack was mesmerized by their closeness. He was so relaxed, so open. He spread his hand across Jack's chest, feeling it expand and contract with calm breaths. After a few minutes, the rhythm of his own body slowed to match. 

Jack shifted slightly, nuzzling his back against Pitch's chest with a contented sigh. He was happy this way, more satisfied than he would have thought he could be just laying this close with someone, especially when that someone was an enemy. No, he corrected himself, not an enemy. He wasn't sure what he was to Pitch now, but the older spirit was right; They would need some time to figure it out. 

Until then, he found Pitch's arms wrapped around him to be very comfortable. Their slow, quiet breaths helped him relax, and by and by, he fell into a doze. 

Pitch heard the other's soft snore and smirked, holding him closer. He would like it, if things like this became a regular occurrence between the two of them. But even though he had suggested it, he somewhat doubted that it would become a habit. Jack might rethink things and decide against coming back; maybe it would be the wiser choice. And if the Guardians ever found out, they would be sure to talk Jack out of spending time in close company with him. 

No, he wouldn’t get his hopes up. Not like before. He lifted his hand to brush a lock of white hair from the sleeping spirit's face. At least he could enjoy today.

All of the sudden, Pitch sensed that something was wrong. He tensed, and Jack stirred as he felt him shift. The younger spirit lifted his head, blinking sleepily. "Hm? What's wrong?" No response. He turned over, and saw Pitch sitting up, looking on edge. "Pitch?"

His golden eyes were hard as he glanced around the room, and he held very still, as if trying to sense something. "There's someone in my lair."

"What?" Jack said, alarmed. His nap ended, he sat up, watching Pitch intently. "You mean someone's broken in? Who?"

Pitch held his palm open in front of him, and dark sand rushed into it from the shadows. It swirled into an orb, and cleared to show a crystal ball filled with dark clouds. Pitch concentrated on it carefully, and an image came into focus within. It showed a dark hallway with two figures; one large man dressed in red, and a certain someone with long ears and thick grey fur.

Jacks eyes widened as he recognized them. "North and Bunnymund. They must've come looking for me." 

"That would seem to be the case." Pitch nodded, looking troubled. The orb showed him that both intruders had weapons drawn, and were stalking the halls as if hunting for a wild animal. What assumptions the Guardians made of him, as if he would capture or harm Jack as soon as look at him. Well, _okay_ , he admitted, there were times when that might've been true, but it was not the case today, and their animosity was unnecessary. He glanced at Jack, and noticed his uneasiness. "Don't worry. It's a shame we had to cut this short, but it's nothing to fret about. We'll just explain to them what happened."

Jack looked even more panicked at that, clenching and unclenching his fists in his lap. As enjoyable as his time with Pitch had been, he didn't want the Guardians to know about it. After all, it would mean admitting what he had wanted, not to mention that to get such affections, he'd gone to Pitch instead of to his friends. "B-but-"

"Relax," Pitch smirked, placing a hand on top of Jack's to calm him down. "I said we'd _explain_ , not tell them the truth. I told you I'd keep your secret, and I will. A deal's a deal, after all."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "But then, what are you going to tell them?" 

\---

"I don't like it, this place," North grunted, walking a few steps behind Bunnymund. "Is too dark."

"Suppose that's the truth," Bunnymund agreed, eyes actively scanning the passageway ahead. His eyes had adjusted to the low light, and he could see at least a few feet ahead of them. "I don't mind the dark too much myself, o'course. You get used to that in tunnels."

"But there's something about this place. Just… a bad feeling."

Bunny shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't think Pitch's place would be _this_ welcoming. I guess I was picturing some kind of side-show, horror, haunted house type of thing. This isn't so bad, though. Nothin' jumpin' out to scare us or anything, at least."

"Boo."

Pitch had manifested out of the darkness on cue, severely startling the would-be home invaders. Bunnymund let loose a not-very-manly (or pookah-like, for that matter) scream, and North swore loudly in Russian. Pitch held back a trouble-making grin and instead faced them with a polite, if forced, smile. "So glad my lair is having that 'scary' effect I was going for. But might I ask _why_ I've found you two wandering my halls, uninvited?"

It took a moment for the Guardians to regain their composure. As North cleared his throat, Bunnymund puffed his chest, brandishing a boomerang at the Spirit of Darkness. "Where's Jack, you slimy old spook?"

Pitch's eyebrows rose, and he circled the pair slowly, hands folded behind his back. "Ah, you have weapons! And you're threatening me with them. Very courteous, so glad to have you in my home."

"Answer the question," North said, sabers glinting dangerously in the low light of the hallway. "We know he is here. What have you done with him?"

Pitch gave them a mock-offended look, one hand on his chest as if taken aback. "My, aren't you afraid you'll sprain something, jumping to conclusions so fast? You come here, armed, and _accusing_ me-"

In a flash, one of North's sabers was at his throat. The Boogeyman held up his hands in submission. " _Alright_ , alright. He _is_ here." North lowered the weapon slightly, and Pitch continued, "And he's perfectly _fine_ , by the way. Aren't you, Jack?"

The youngest Guardian smirked at his friends as he rounded the corner. "Hey guys. Miss me?"

North immediately grinned, lowering his weapons as boy casually approached. "Jack! You are okay!"

"Of course I am," he replied cockily, leaning on his staff. "You didn't really think a couple of Nightmares were gonna be a problem for Jack Frost, didja?"

"No, they thought _I_ was the problem, of course," Pitch supplied, giving the Guardians a contemptuous look. 

Bunnymund glared. "Yeah, real sorry for thinkin' you, our _enemy_ , might've harmed Jack after he attacked your minions, and runnin' in here ready to fight. Next time we'll just knock on your front door, instead," he said dryly, rolling his eyes before turning to Jack. He placed a paw on his shoulder, watching the boy's face as if he was likely to show signs of mind control or some other trauma. "You really okay, Jackie?"

"I'm fine," the Frost Spirit replied with a small smile. Pitch, watching from the corner of his eye, noticed the way Jack had tensed when Bunny touched him.

"Eh, what happened?" North asked, scratching his head. "I am still confused."

"Well, believe it or not, I've done nothing to harm your young companion," Pitch explained curtly. "He actually did me a favor; those Nightmares had turned on me, but he stopped them before they could harm anyone." He paused, giving Jack a truly thankful look before continuing. "I felt I owed him a debt of gratitude, and so I offered him a favor."

"A favor?" North repeated.

"From you?" Bunnymund said, watching Pitch distrustfully. He stepped between Jack and Pitch, taking a protective stance. "And what could Jack possibly want from the likes of you?"

"Bunny," Jack said calmly, "Relax. He's telling the truth, let him finish."

Pitch shrugged lightly, dismissive of the pookah's accusatory demeanor. "Apparently all he wanted was a tour."

Bunnymund looked doubtfully from one to the other. "A tour?"

"Yes, of my lair," Pitch said blandly. "You see, people don't _normally_ get to walk around here just as they please, so it was sort of a special arrangement."

Jack shrugged, and hung his staff across his shoulders casually. "I saw a little of the place back when we fought at Easter. It's not bad, as far as evil lairs go. I've always been a little interested in architecture, and it seemed like a good excuse to see more." He smiled, and gave an apologetic wince to his friends. "I didn't mean to worry you guys by not reporting back right away. I guess I'm still getting used to being part of a team, it didn't even occur to me."

Bunnymund narrowed his eyes, and Jack smirked. "Well, _okay_ , it _did_ occur to me. I just didn't think you'd let me go alone if you knew. And I didn't think Pitch would be too happy letting the whole group of us loose in his house, not to mention you guys are all super busy and would probably get bored looking at staircases and hallways and stuff. But I really didn't mean to worry you," he finished honestly, watching hopefully for a sign that his friends would believe the story. 

North seemed to consider the information for a moment, before he shrugged, and nodded in acceptance. 

Bunny wasn't so sure; he looked at Jack, then Pitch, then back at Jack. He eyed the young Guardian closely, and raised a brow. "Architecture?"

"What, the Guardian of Fun can't have an appreciation for the fine art of impressive buildings?" Jack replied with a smile. 

Bunnymund sighed. "If you say so, mate," he said. He smiled affectionately, and brought a paw up to ruffle Jack's white hair. "Just glad you're okay. Come on, we should go find the others."

"They're not _also_ loose in my home, I hope?" Pitch asked.

"No," North replied, "They went to search the town. We found two piles of Nightmare ash in the woods, and one in the town. We couldn't tell which was more recent so we split up our search." 

Pitch nodded. "Well, do be off, then. I don't mean to be rude, but seeing as I have made no recent offences, I would appreciate privacy within my own home."

Bunny eyed him bitterly. "A shame. It's such a nice little spot, I was hoping to move in myself." He shook his head at the dark spirit, and turned to leave the way they had come. "Come on, you two. And let's hope Tooth hasn't broken into another Dentist's office; She gets so distracted over those shiny tools."

Jack made to leave with his friends, but Pitch said his name and he turned around. His would-be enemy gave him a meaningful look. "Seeing as our _tour_ was cut short, you're certainly welcome to come back another time. Just give me fair warning before you do, and, ah, _don't_ bring your friends next time. I'd appreciate it."

Jack smiled in return, trying to fight the frosty blush growing on his cheeks. "Sounds like a deal. See you soon, Pitch." 

"Yes," Pitch said, watching the Guardians walk towards the exit. As they left, he took a few steps backwards, out of a mote of light and into the shadows. "I look forward to it." 

\---

_The End._


End file.
